Nicky Highpockets

I usually associate Robert Pollard's collaborations with Todd Tobias as noisy affairs. Tobias usually throws the kitchen sink into his song beds, leaving Pollard the challenge of finding a vein in which to lay his melody. Not with "Nicky Highpockets." This quiet ballad sounds like something Pollard would have concocted on his own, with some guitar and a little piano being the only instrumentation. It leaves Pollard plenty of room for his strange seafaring tale about Nicky, who has "landed a job on the high ass seas." Beyond Pollard's nice vocal, the most interesting thing is how he drops his own name in the lyric: "You betcha Bob and yessiree," he sings, as if affirming to himself that the story is true.

Love Hate Relationship with the Human Race

Any garage band could offer a decent cover of "Love Hate Relationship with the Human Race." Musically, that is. Vocally? Well, that's another story. Todd Tobias offers a nice three-chord rocker with bite, and Robert Pollard, seemingly inspired, cranks out some modestly controlled misanthropy. Some young shouter could get the job done, but it takes a world-weary voice to fully inhabit these lyrics, and Pollard is just the man for the job.

Movie makers
Drag racers
and cocksuckers on the go
Ride a red bus
and take it real slow

When he follows that with a bellowing declaration that "I got a love hate relationship with the human race," the last four words of the line double-tracked for emphasis, you believe him, on the latter point, anyway. The love part? We'll take him at his word.

Love people
Hate people
Can't live with people
Can't live without people

Anyone honest lives somewhere in the intersection of those words, and Pollard's vocal might as well be our national anthem.

George Took a Shovel

Of all his various side projects, Robert Pollard seems to have the most fun with Circus Devils. There are no expectations, no pressures, just a chance to throw some things at the wall to see what sticks. That makes for some noisy, experimental and just plain strange music, but it also occasionally leads to a gem like "George Took a Shovel."

The song is a standout on the Circus Devils' fifth disc, Sgt. Disco. Over an epic blues shuffle from Todd Tobias, Pollard recites an odd little tale. I'm not sure what he's going for here, but I can't help but hear a little of Bill Murray from "Caddyshack" in his slack, mushmouthed delivery. He tells us about "some kind of cream-filled object" unearthed by a team looking in a cornfield for "storm troopers power plants." The George of the title took a shovel and busted it open, revealing the creamy substance inside. The object is taken to "the Imperial Professor of psychotropics and UFOs," who declares it dangerous and full of sorrow. Each of these verses is capped by Pollard's emphatic, one-line chorus, "I really think I should get up and get out," for which he breaks character. Our narrator isn't George, and whoever is singing the chorus doesn't seem to be our narrator.

Whatever is going on, it's funny, catchy and unlike anything Pollard would think to do on a record with his name on the cover.